


The Godfathers

by SensationalSunburst



Series: Small Angry Gardeners [3]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Future Fic, Gardens & Gardening, Multi, Post-Canon, Protective Andrew Minyard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-07 14:32:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14673108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SensationalSunburst/pseuds/SensationalSunburst
Summary: Leigh was, in all aspects except for his eyes and mouth, a carbon copy of Thea. He also possessed his mother’s boldness, evidenced as he smacked his tiny hands against Andrew’s cheeks, cooing “Dew! Dew!”It was as close as he’d been able to get to Andrew’s name thus far and so unfathomably cute that Neil felt it like a physical ache deep in his chest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to Andrew, Neil and Curb Appeal and it's associated companion piece Saved by the Bush. 
> 
> Thank you all so so much for your kind words on Andrew, Neil and Curb Appeal. Your feedback means so much to me.

To everyone’s surprise, Matt and Dan weren’t the first Foxes to have kids. 

Kevin and Thea were.

Kevin announced Thea’s pregnancy over their monthly Skype call while Aaron and Nicky were snipping at each other as a quiet aside to Renee. As if the news wasn’t going to act like an atom bomb on them all. As if Nicky wasn’t going to screech so loudly he overloaded his microphone and went silent. As if Neil wasn’t going to immediately panic about the upcoming Olympic games. The games that  _ Thea is supposed to play in, Kevin! _ As if Aaron wasn’t going to start loudly proclaiming that Allison owed him $300  _ right fucking now, Venmo it bitch.  _

Thea went into labor at the start of the second half of their last match of the Games. A fact that, for reasons unknown to Andrew, their captain decided to tell Kevin just as they locked the court doors. Andrew knew, as he’d overheard the conversation just before the start of the game, that Thea had told Kevin in no uncertain terms to play the game to completion, no matter what, but Andrew still had to lay a heavy hand on the back of his trembling neck and shake the anxiety out of him. 

Kevin went on to win an Olympic gold and a world record. 

* * *

 

The next year, Kevin and Thea were the last to arrive to the annual Fourth of July party at Andrew and Neil’s. The reason for which was plopped unceremoniously into Andrew’s arms nearly as soon as the door opened. 

“Hello, Leigh.” Andrew murmured, barely audible over the toddler’s excited babbling. Behind them, Neil watched as Allison’s perfectly curated eyebrows took up residence in her hairline and her mouth dropped open. A well-placed elbow from Renee had Allison covering her shock with a sip of spiked punch before Andrew turned towards them. 

Leigh was, in all aspects except for his eyes and mouth, a carbon copy of Thea. He also possessed his mother’s boldness, evidenced as he smacked his tiny hands against Andrew’s cheeks, cooing “Dew! Dew!” It was as close as he’d been able to get to Andrew’s name thus far and so unfathomably cute that Neil felt it like a physical ache deep in his chest. 

A similar ache, he supposed, that he’d gotten when Thea had informed them that they were to be his godfathers. He hadn’t quite known what it’d meant at the time, but when he and Andrew had stood in a tiny church in the middle of the Massachusetts countryside for Leigh’s baptism, they’d gotten a full twenty minute lecture from the priest on their new duties. Duties, Neil had realized as Andrew calmly wrapped his hand around Neil’s wrist, thumb resting on his suddenly thunderous pulse, that meant that they were now well and truly family. 

And somehow, it felt different than before; different than the bone deep sense of contentment that the Foxes in all of their imperfect glory seemed to inspire. That feeling, as Thea had handed him a tiny, flawless baby in the soft glow of a near silent morning, was something altogether different.  _ That _ feeling, as Leigh had pried open his emerald eyes and stared up at him, silent and smiling, had lingered for days. 

“Is that Thea I hear?” Dan called, sliding through their glass doors with a beer already uncapped for her. Matt was predictably trailing behind, eyes bright at the idea of seeing the baby he’d only ever seen via a screen, but as he closed the sliding glass door behind him, sealing out the muggy summer day, he paused, visibly shocked to see Andrew carefully cradling a babbling toddler on his hip. He recovered quickly enough, but Neil was consumed with confusion until he realized that the rest of the Foxes had never seen Leigh before. 

It was their house, Neil realized as Andrew brought Leigh to him so that he could smack his sticky hands against Neil’s face, that Kevin and Thea brought the baby to first.  _ They _ were the ones who watched Leigh when both Kevin and Thea had a game.

_ They _ were Leigh’s  _ godfathers.  _

The rest of the Foxes hadn’t been there when Kevin had told them that they’d discovered that Leigh was allergic to strawberries. They hadn’t seen the barely there lift of Andrew’s golden eyebrows, the short nod as he stood and grabbed his gardening gloves as he made his way to the backyard. They never watched Andrew carefully harvest the berries ripening on the row of plants, the plants he’d taken  _ months _ to cultivate. Or how he’d then taken a shovel and torn them all from the earth, dumping the mangled bushes in the garbage and the harvested berries on Neighbor’s porch. 

They didn’t  _ know _ . 

The Foxes didn’t know that Andrew had quietly baby-proofed the house. Or about the stash of clothes and diapers that Thea had brought over and tucked under the guest bathroom’s sink. They didn’t know that Neil now automatically turned when someone said “eel.” 

Matt hadn’t been there to witness Andrew rocketing to his feet when the Neighbor had let her dog out for the first time while they were letting Leigh crawl about in the front yard. He hadn’t seen the sudden shift to violence in the seconds between when the massive hound had spotted Leigh and when it had thrown itself to its back, whining in the same way it did to Neil in the morning as it begged for belly rubs. Matt didn’t know that it had taken  _ hours _ for Andrew’s hands to stop shaking, even after the Neighbor, Thea and Kevin had watched Leigh be covered in a thick layer of slobber in the face of the Neighbor’s dog's gentle affection. 

But they’d learn. 

Renee at least, was unphased, and smiled as she approached and offered her pointer finger for Leigh to grab and almost immediately put in his mouth. She, as Neil expected, possessed the kind of calm, open air that children tended to trust and Leigh smiled brightly, cooing again even as he gnawed on her manicure. 

“Oh Kevin, he’s adorable.” She said, “Just look at those cheeks!” Renee gently reclaimed her finger to tickle at Leigh’s cheek, smiling brightly at him before sliding her gaze to Andrew. She said nothing, but inclined her head, earning an eye roll so deep that Neil was certain he’d seen his ancestors. 

“Here.” Andrew said, handing Leigh over to Neil, he didn’t pause, thoughtlessly confident in the way of someone used to a routine, and motioned for Renee to follow him into the kitchen. 

“Eel!” Leigh squealed, and Neil smiled helplessly as Leigh’s hand went again to the scar on his cheek. He caught Dan’s eye and shrugged at her puzzled expression. 

“It’s the contrast.” Kevin explained, dropping a kiss to Leigh’s head as he shrugged off his over-shirt, “Babies love it. He’ll stare at a ceiling fan for hours.”

“Yeah,” Neil said, “Check it out. Leigh. “ Neil brought the baby’s attention to his arm by holding it up for his inspection and smiled again at Dan as Leigh lunged to poke and rub at the scars there. 

* * *

 

 

“He’s quick!”  Katelyn  laughed, watching Leigh toddle around the porch from her vantage point in the circle of chairs set around the fire pit in the yard. Nicky nodded, eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses with a just shy of too tight grip on Erik’s hand. 

Leigh looked up at the sound of  Katelyn’s  laugh and twisted, giggling as he made a beeline for the circle of adults, heedless of the small set of stairs between him and his goals. A shout of alarm rose up, but before Leigh’s pint sized sneaker cleared the first step Andrew materialized to scoop him up with both hands under his armpits. As one, a sigh settled over the group, save for Kevin who rolled his eyes as Andrew descended the stairs and gently placed Leigh onto the grass. 

“Gotta be more careful!” Katlyn said to Leigh’s giggling face. 

“I’m moderately certain that all babies are programed to self-destruct,” Thea sighed, “He has a thing for rolling off of furniture, but I’m pretty sure it’s just because he likes getting caught.” 

“My nephew does the same thing! He waits until you're watching to swan dive to the ground. I have no idea why.” Dan exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “Gave himself a shiner something awful once, Lord have mercy.” 

“I thought he was going to take his eye out once,” Thea plucked Leigh from  Katelyn’s  lap when the baby began making grabby hands for her, “he’s trying to walk around but is so distracted by the ceiling fan he almost ran right into their coffee table. Andrew caught him before he could, of course. He's playing baby goalie now.” 

“He's um,’ Erik paused in the way that meant he was searching for a proper translation, “better with children than I thought he'd be.”

“Really?” Renee sipped idly at her iced tea, and smiled over the rim of her sunglasses at Erik, “Andrew has always been a guardian.”  

Erik blinked at her for a moment before he shrugged, dropping the subject just as Neil came over to announce that the burgers would be ready soon.

Leigh perked up and squealed, arms up. “Eel!” 

“Hello, Leigh. Do you want to help me pick some veggies?” Neil asked. Leigh babbled and shrieked, grabby hands in full force and Neil nodded seriously, “Good, let's go.”

Together, Neil and Leigh made their way through the sprawling gardens, picking (or slapping in Leigh’s case) a small basket of produce for dinner.  Katelyn  beamed at Aaron, tugging at where their hands were joined as Neil held up tomatoes for Leigh’s inspection and seemed to listen as intently as he had to Wymack back in college to whatever nonsense the baby garbled. 

“The garden looks amazing, Andrew.” Renee said. They were seated across the lawn from the others propped against the stairs to the porch, feet on the grass. Andrew’s eyes tracked Neil and Leigh as they picked out lettuce and dug up onions. 

“I don't know if I've forgiven you for the zucchini incident.” Andrew said.

“It wasn't that bad.” Renee laughed. 

“We grew about a hundred pounds of fucking zucchini.” However, Andrew felt his snarl slip from his face as Leigh hung over Neil's shoulder to babble at them, holding an unripe tomato in his fist. 

“Good job, Leigh.” Andrew and Renee spoke at the same time, eliciting a snort from Renee and another eye roll from Andrew. 

“My my my, I never thought I’d see you so thoroughly wrapped around someone’s finger.” She teased, gently tapping her shoulder to Andrew’s. He, as always, stood immobile, but he sucked his teeth. 

“If you’re just going to insult me, you can get the fuck out.” 

“I’m just saying,” She continued, sipping from her glass of sweet tea, “It’s nice. I mean, have you seen Nicky? He looks like he’s going to break Erik’s hand every time you and Neil so much as look at the baby. If you thought he was bad when the baby was born, you should have seen him when you were holding him. He’s drowning in his own tears over there.”

Andrew glanced across the yard where most of the party was lounging in the lawn chairs that Neil had spent an hour arranging. Indeed, Nicky had his husband’s hand gripped within his own, and he was tossing his head in a way that meant he was fighting tears even from behind his ridiculous sunglasses. 

Andrew paused, considering, but then figured it was a hypothesis worth testing. 

“Neil.” He called, voice just barely above his normal speaking tone. Immediately, Neil stepped from between the garden’s rows, a question in the tilt of his head.  Andrew simply held his hands out and Neil carefully placed Leigh into them, to the toddlers audible delight. Leigh held up his now slightly crushed tomato, pressing it insistently against Andrew’s hand until he took it with a quiet “Thank you,” but his eyes were on Nicky, who was now visibly crushing Erik’s hand. 

“Be nice, Andrew.” Renee said, a scold in words only as her tone was obviously egging him on.

“I’ll go wash these and get them all plated.” Neil said, stepping past them with his basket of produce balanced on one hip. He ruffled Leigh’s hair as he want, scarred hands unbelievably gentle in Leigh's riotous mass of spring like curls. 

Nicky not-so-subtly adjusted his sunglasses as Erik lifted his near bloodless hand to kiss Nicky’s knuckles. 

Andrew blinked slowly, then lifted Leigh up to look into his face. The toddler beamed, giggling and garbling at him, delighted as always to be the center of attention. Andrew felt his lips twitch, a near smile, before leaning in to smack a kiss against Leigh’s suspiciously sticky cheek. 

And across the yard, Nicky let out an audible sob. 


	2. The Zucchini Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Renee makes good on her word, zucchini is grown... and then thrown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooomyyggood. 
> 
> Y'all's response to this has given me more life than you know. I'm so serious, I appreciate all of your kudos and comments so so much. 
> 
> Some of you asked for elaboration on the Zucchini Incident. 
> 
> Ask, and ye shall receive.  
> (I'm serious, your comments give me Plus Ultra!Motivation)

 

Andrew was hauling his second basket of produce of the day to the house as Neil slipped through the sliding glass door to greet him. Andrew figured he was after more tomatoes, eager to perfect his pasta sauce recipe so they could can it in time for the holidays, when he seemed to realize that the basket Andrew carried, like the last one he’d brought to the porch, was mostly filled with zucchini.

Neil let out a strangled sound from the back of his throat, strange enough that Andrew was certain that he didn’t even know he’d made it.

“More zucchini?” Neil bent to inspect the contents, successfully digging out a few prized tomatoes.

“There’s more.” Andrew said, watching Neil’s eyebrows twist momentarily in distress, “We can’t waste them.”

“I know.” Neil said, and when Andrew returned his gaze to his face, it was to an expression of resigned understanding. Because they both remembered what it was like to be hungry. They both remembered when the garden they tended now was nothing more than a fever dream of lonely boys trapped in horrible places.

Andrew swallowed down the twist in his chest that once would have triggered a snappish reply to drown the feeling of being _known_ and instead met Neil’s eyes steadily and pushed the basket towards him.

“Give them to Neighbor.” Andrew suggested.

“We’ve given her like 20 pounds of zucchini.” Neil said, but Andrew shrugged and with a put upon sigh, Neil hefted the basket to his hip. “Fine.”

\----

Later that night, during a dinner of zucchini noodles with fresh marinara and garlic bread, Neil seemed to break.

“Oh my God, Andrew. I can’t eat anymore fucking zucchini.” With a voice that could only be described as a whine. Across the table, Andrew went perfectly still, fork still suspended halfway to his mouth. Neil froze in response, reviewing the past few minutes of conversation when Andrew said softly, with feeling;

“God fucking _dammit_ , Walker.”

“What? Renee?” Neil asked. Andrew put down his fork, pushed away his plate and pulled out his phone.

“Hello, Andrew.” Renee said over the speaker, voice clear and calm as always. Andrew threw the phone on to the center of the table in disgust.

“Fuck you, Walker.” Andrew snarled and after a moment of almost palpably confused silence, Renee began to laugh.

“How _is_ the harvest?” She asked and Neil finally began to understand. “I did tell you I'd get you back for the closet.”

“What have you done?” Neil asked and after greeting him as well and as her chuckles died down, Neil heard Allison's voice in the background.

“My plan has come to _fruition_ , if you will.” Renee replied, voice somewhat muffled as she must have turned her head away from the speaker.

“The zucchini!?” Neil shouted, “That was you?!”

“Of course,” Renee said, and he could hear the smile, “It was nothing to plant a few more seeds when you all weren't looking.”

“Renee, you don't understand, there's so much fucking zucchini, the neighbors aren't taking it anymore! It's just piling up!” Neil said, leaning over the table as if Renee could see him over the phone. “We've been eating zucchini with every fucking meal for weeks! Weeks!”

“I swore to Andrew that I'd get him back for locking Allison and I in the equipment closet,” Renee said and he could clearly hear Allison cackling in the background, “I'm sorry you were caught in the crossfire.”

“That was over five fucking years ago.” Andrew said.

“You're not the only one with a good memory, Andrew.” She replied.

\----

“I'm serious! Who the _fuck_ keeps putting goddamn _zucchini_ in here?”

Neil stared dispassionately at the zucchini sitting in his locker. There was at least two pounds there, enough that only one had slipped from the locker when he'd opened it. A different story, he noted, than the others got. Their lockers were filled with enough zucchini that when opened, the offending vegetables cascaded to the ground, piling at the feet of their teammates.

Beside him, Andrew calmly picked up the zucchini that fell from his locker and put it back inside, reaching around it for the rest of his gear, just as he had last week, and the week before for that. As if he wasn't the one coming in every few nights to put them there.

“I swear to God when I find out who's fucking doing this, I'm going to fucking kick your ass.” Thompson, their short tempered rookie backliner snarled from his corner of room, eyeing them all for some unknown sign of guilt. Neil had to bite back the smile that threatened to split his face, tickled as always, when Thompson's outbursts echoed Seth's.

Neil wanted to feel bad about finding humor there, but being murdered didn't make anyone any less of an asshole.

“You got something to say, Josten?” Thompson snarled. Andrew turned to face Neil, his back to Thompson and lifted a single eyebrow, his face otherwise calm.

 _You just can't help yourself._ The eyebrow accused, and Neil raised a single shoulder.

_You love it._

_“_ Actually-” Neil began, eyes still locked on Andrew, but their Captain, 5’5’’ inches of fury and loud as a person twice her size cut him off with a squawk.

“Is that volunteers for extra laps I hear? The _whole team_ wants extra laps?” Gabriella snapped, stomping her foot against their wooden benches for extra emphasis.

“No, captain.” Thompson replied immediately, fearful as always of extra cardio. Neil knew that was why Gabriella had used that particular threat, as she knew that Neil routinely outpaced and outran his teammates. This time, he couldn't contain his smirk, even as he saw Thompson's face crumble into a scowl.

Later, Andrew would remember looking over his shoulder at the murderous look Thompson was throwing Neil and realize he should have taken care of the problem then.

Later, as Thompson checked Neil hard enough during their warm ups that he was thrown off his feet and through the air, Andrew knew exactly what he was going to do next. But first he had to show Thompson, in the only language the boy seemed to know, exactly what happened when someone touched his things.

( _Much_ later, he’d also reflect on how the rest of the team had moved out out his way as he’d thundered out of goal, and how he’d heard more than one person muttering “He fucked up now.”)

Later, Gabriella would use his “rare” display of violence as an example of how the Riptides protect their own, “And if you can't get with the program, Thompson, I'll shove your contract so far up your ass my wedding ring will tickle your fucking uluva!”

(“Gabby, no! What the fuck, babe, we've talked about this!” Her wife, their defensive dealer cried, “ _Less specifics!_ Use less specifics! Christ Almighty.”)

\----

“Andrew… what are you going to do with all of this?” Neil asked two weeks later. He idly tapped one of the baskets by the door, frowning at the sheer volume of zucchini resting there. The pile wobbled dangerously, startling the cats that had followed him into the room to sniff at it, but remained upright.

“You'll see,” Andrew said, looking up at Neil over the top of his reading glasses. He eyed the yellowed bruise alongside Neil’s face and pointedly turned a page in his novel. And although his expression was even, his eyes were bright with mischief. Which, honestly, Neil thought later, should have been a sign.

\----

Three days later, at the first game of the finals, Neil opened the locker room door to the sound of shrill, furious screaming.

For a moment, his heart stuttered within his chest, fear ricocheting along his nerve endings. But that was before a 7 inch long zucchini rocketed past his face and directly into Thompson's. Followed by another and then another, revealing Gabriella pelting Thompson with an armful of zucchini as she stomped across the room towards him. “You little fucking shit! So many fucking laps! You think you're funny? I've been eating fucking znoodles for _weeks_ , damn you!”

“What the fuck?” Neil blinked, and from the other side of the lounge Andrew lifted both eyebrows.

“Turns out it was Thompson all along.” Nyugen, their second striker said, arms folded across his chest. “He even filled the guest lockers! But he fucked up this time and forgot to put any in his own. He should have just said he planted too many, it's a rookie mistake.”

“I hear they're prolific.” Neil said, raising his voice over Gabriella’s increasingly bizarre threats.

“One plant usually produces more than a family could want. They can grow up to something like two inches every other day.” Nyugen shrugged then turned back towards his locker, picking up the pile of zucchini at its base. Beyond him, Neil could see assorted heads poking out from the men’s changing room, answering the question of where the rest of the team was hiding.

Andrew easily dodged under the hail of vegetables to stand next to Neil, surveying the chaos he'd sown with a nearly bored expression. But he couldn't help the subtle lift at the corner of his mouth, which may have well as been a cackle.

“Satisfied?” Neil asked quietly, “I think you may have _squashed_ his rebellious streak.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I dunno, maybe he could have _grown_ on me.”

”I'll kill you.”

“Ooh, I felt that one from my head _tomatoes.”_  

“Who the fuck taught you puns. Nicky? I'll kill him too.”

“I don't want any collateral _cabbage.”_

“Neil Abram Minyard-Josten, I will-”

“Andrew, Andrew. Don't _kale_ my vibe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look me in my face and try to tell me Neil doesn't grasp the concept of puns immediately.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments are always appreciated and thank you again to those who commented last time! <3


End file.
